


New Shores

by celedan



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Drunk Sex, Ellie's POV, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Making This Up As I Go, Porn with Feelings, Post Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: After going to the pub with Hardy to wash away the remains of a taxing case, Ellie suddenly finds herself in bed with her partner.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	New Shores

**Author's Note:**

> I liked Broadchurch very much, but I don't really see those two together... and yet, I do. Can't really explain it since, in the show, I never saw it, but in the various ff I read, I think they fit very well together, so I wanted to try it out, too. I didn't even have a real idea when I began writing this, I was just making it up as I went, and this is the result. Have fun reading.

It had started after a rather long and complicated case. Tax fraud. Nothing overly thrilling, but just the thing after the horrors of the Winterman case.

But by the end of the week, after successfully solving the whole mess, both she and Hardy were completely worn down. Ellie couldn't remember chasing rapists had been as taxing as that... Well, it had, but in a completely different way.

After Hardy had placed his signature under the report, tying it all up, they'd looked at each other, and, in mutual agreement, left the station to head for the next pub.

He may have turned her down the last time she'd asked, but now they both needed a drink so badly. Just as colleagues, nothing more – to be honest, she wasn't even sure if she'd asked him to the pub after solving Trish's case as a romantic interest or just as his partner; the idea of herself and him together had been ridiculous.

Not overly ridiculous now it seemed since Ellie currently found herself rolling around Hardy's bed with the man, both of them playfully wrestling for dominance while they devoured each other with hungry, slightly clumsy, tipsy kisses.

God, the last time she'd done something this awkward was when she'd been a teenag... No, not really. That night going out with Clare and pulling that guy had been way more awkward. She'd just been too drunk to notice or care, and afterwards, she'd just felt awful and kinda dirty for that one-night-stand which hadn't even been any good.

She was drunk now, too. Hardy as well for a change, but by now, endorphins rushing through her body had chased away the alcohol-induced haze almost completely. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the way he touched her, so sure and confident, so did he.

They hadn't had any time to actually be awkward around each other because of it since they hadn't paused even once since it all started. After kissing drunkenly on his porch all of a sudden when saying good night, staring wide-eyed like deer caught in the headlights at one another, they'd been all over each other in the next second, stumbling into his house, clothes flying left and right on their uncoordinated, loud hurry into the bedroom, and Ellie had had a brief moment of clarity to thank every deity there was that Daisy was away to university.

Abruptly, Ellie was wrenched out of her wool-gathering as his warm lips closed around one of her nipples, the scratchy feeling of his beard rubbing over the sensitive skin of her breast a thrilling shock to her, while the other was being fondled by slender fingers. Both sensations had her moaning loudly, shocking herself at how loud she was, and also surprised that he bothered with foreplay  – he was a man for details though, wasn't he.

Instinctively, her hands flew up to scrabble at his wiry shoulders for something to hold on to. She found purchase in the soft, probably freckled flesh, and her legs bend and came up to cage him between them tightly.

God, he was so thin, she had to fear breaking him in half holding on to him like that. But when, all of a sudden, he let go of her breasts to shuffle up her body to claim her mouth in another kiss, she suddenly felt him pressing against her wet folds between her spread legs, and nothing about him felt frail any more. Moaning softly, she raised her hips slightly in encouragement, and the motion caused him to breach her slightly, just the tip dipping into her almost teasingly. Accepting the challenge, while still kissing her deeply, Hardy sank into her fully with one fluid roll of his hips.

She couldn't help but keen into the kiss while her nails dug into his shoulders so hard that she would probably leave marks.

He felt so incredibly big as he opened her up like that, long and hot, bigger than she would have ever thought from that stick of a body he had. It was suddenly hard to breath as she was filled up so completely, and Ellie was grateful that he paused for a moment to give her time to adjust. It had been a while after all, and the stretch felt a little uncomfortable at first.

“You okay?”

His words, the first either one of them had spoken for ages, shocked her, and her eyes – which she hadn't noticed she had even closed tightly – flew open to stare up at him in the gloomy darkness of his bedroom where he was propped up on his elbows above her.

Swallowing heavily, taking in slow, deep breaths, Ellie nodded jerkily, gradually starting to relax and get used to the pressure filling her out so completely.

He actually smiled at her fondly, and reached up to caress her cheek and then pet her hair. The gentleness of the simple gesture was almost enough to break her. It felt good to be cherished and wanted like that, but she was unfamiliar to it. Right now, she couldn't cope with that much gentleness, and she surged up to kiss him again, closing her eyes tightly once more so that she didn't have to see him looking at her with so much tenderness. She loosened her death-grip on his shoulders, and instead placed her hands flat on his back, tugging him down until their chests lay pressed flush together. Soft moans echoed through the room, and she gently arched up into him, enjoying the drag of sweat-slick, hairy skin on her nipples.

And all that while, he had been waiting patiently for her, simply staying poised inside her without any demands for his own gratification.

To be honest, Ellie didn't think she would be able to utter even one word, but she knew that she had to communicate with him somehow. Because right that moment, she  _needed_ him. She needed him to take care of her, to make her feel good. So, she simply lifted her legs a bit until she could wrap them around his narrow waist, pulling him even deeper into her like that. He made a small noise which he quickly smothered in her mouth, but he got the message.

Pulling back, almost completely out of her, he slowly pushed back inside. It had them both moaning, the friction of his cock dragging against her soft walls too much at first, even with the smoothness of the condom (th e bit of latex that he had procurred out of nowhere earlier probably aeons old though, making her wonder about its expiry date ; she feared that it would very likely just melt away during the act, and if he left her pregnant, he was utterly don e for – she wasn't on the pill any more because, well, her sex life was as barren as his seemed to be lately). Gradually though, as she felt herself getting wetter since just the  _ thought _ of having him inside of her, moving inside of her so intimately twisted her stomach in a pleasant way, the friction became just right. 

He still felt huge inside of her, decadent even, and quite different from what she was used to (or not used to lately), but rapidly, pleasure began mounting in Ellie as it turned out that he wasn't only surprisingly well-endowed, but that he actually knew what to do  with his bits. Astoundingly well, to be honest. She couldn't really claim that the sexual encounters she'd had in her life had been transcendentally mind-blowing. Normal, she supposed, comfortable, satisfying. But even she could gauge how rubbish the bloke in Clare's house had been, how mechanically he'd pounded into her. In, out, like a machine while he'd panted above her like a racehorse, and in the end, leaving her completely unsatisfied and feeling awkward like a stupid teenager.

No, thank you. 'T was probably better not to have sex at all than have bad sex.

Hardy though...

The next roll of his hips pushed him incredibly deep, and she gasped, followed by a guttural moan as his hard length scraped over her pleasure point . She tightened the hold of her legs around him.

But there was still something. The way his face looked, the little she could see of it in the gloomy light. So utterly concentrated, a deep furrow between his brows.

He was holding back; either not wanting to hurt her, to overwhelm her, or because he couldn't give up control so completely. But that was exactly what they both needed right now, even if he'd claim the opposite. Both of them had been thrown into situations more than once where they had been robbed of control over their lives, and it had been horrible. But here and now, she knew that losing control, together, would be cathartic, not crushing and overwhelming.

“Alec,” she rasped, and he gave a small huff at hearing his given name, abruptly stilling inside of her, and staring down at her with his wide, hazel eyes like a deer in the headlights, clearly fearful that he had done something wrong, the knob.

Automatically, her hands slid over his back, along his shoulders, until she could cup his face in her palms. She stared at him imploringly, holding his gaze with her own determined one, not giving him the chance to look away.

“Let go.”

He made a protesting noise deep in his throat, probably out of principle, just to be contrary, but, in a dirty move, she viciously squeezed around him, and the noise turned out into a full-fledged groan.

For a moment, he shuddered in a last attempt at hesitation, but finally, she felt all the tension bleed out of him. 

His next thrust robbed her of her breath; no hesitation, no lingering anxiety. The repeated, fluid rolls of his hips pounding her soft insides expertly had her moaning and keening uncontrollably, and if she'd been more coherent, she would have been embarrassed about the noises she made.

She could be embarrassed later.

Canting her pelvis up, Ellie met him thrust for thrust, and for a while, her brain completely shut up, and she let herself be swept away by the noises of their shagging, their dual moans and breathy gasps, the wet sound of sweaty flesh slapping against sweaty flesh, the soft squeak of the mattress beneath them.

She bucked up hard into him when one spindly hand suddenly slipped between their bodies to firmly rub at her swollen clit.

The overstimulation was too much, so, all of a sudden, a shudder rippled through her whole body, her legs spasming and trembling as her orgasm ripped through her so abruptly.

He jerked against her, once, twice, as her rippling internal muscles milked his own orgasm from him. Panting heavily, his whole body gave out under him, and he rolled to the side instead of collapsing onto her. She whined slightly as he pulled out of her so abruptly, and she wished for a moment that he would slide back into her, just to feel him filling her out so completely for a little while longer.

Not dwelling on that suddenly deep-seated and probably way too intimate urge, she rolled onto her side so that they lay facing each other, both still trying to catch their breaths. In the gloomy light, she caught his gaze, and they looked at each other for a long time, not saying anything. 

They should get cleaned up, she thought, get rid of the condom, and she should probably dress and go before everything got even more complicated, but she couldn't. She needed to lie here for a moment longer, so close to him. Close to the man who she sometimes thought was the only one who seemed to really understand her. Her pain, her anger, because he had been there already, and had been there for her when it had been her turn to almost fall apart and pick herself up from the ruins again.

Inadvertenly, she reached out to touch the small scar of his heart surgery, almost not daring to touch him. She only noticed what she was doing when he let out a soft gasp. As if burned, she snatched her hand back, the touch suddenly much too intimate despite what they had done just now. Briefly, her eyes flitted down to the scar, then back up to his face. He seemed unfazed, like always, but as she looked into his big, vulnerable eyes, she read all the emotions there that swirled through her as well. They didn't have to talk, but all of a sudden, in crystal-clear mutual agreement, they recognised that something fundamentally had changed between them tonight. It was not just because of the sex. That had been the catalyst, yes, but it was something more. And for a moment, she was afraid of that something, afraid to explore it. He was, too; she could see it in his eyes, in the way he held himself so utterly still without reaching out to her, just waiting poised like that to see that she would do. But knowing that, the fear bled out of her as quickly as it had gripped her. She kinda liked knowing they could be afraid together, since, and here she was reaching out to gently cup his cheek, smiling at him in the darkness, they were at their best when they worked together. 

** End **


End file.
